Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1887-04-29
An OvercOat Tragedy.

took IL from the hall and carried it into
her boudoir. Her name was Eva Will
ton. and she had been married five
years, and never-never-never in all
that time had one unhappy moment.
MIR. Wilton had been very attentive,
very kind. and very generous. and had
never made her jealous. She often said
that she was the happiest woman liv-
ing. Now. as she looked at the lining
and compared the silk with which she
was about TO replace the torn portion.
she was thinking these thoughts. They
had never had any children, but when
people are all in all to each other that
is no very great grief. All her care
was for him-all his for her.
''And he is just the dearest best. tru-
est fellow in the world" said Eva Will
ton to her self. I'm not half good
enough for m. | wonder what this
is in his pocket il bulges it all out of
shape"
She put her hand into the breast
pocket as she spoke and drew out a
little package wrapped up in paper and
tied with blue ribbon.
Something he has bought for me,
expect" said Eva. al wonder what it
is. think that | won't open it until
he comes home;" and she laid the silk
across the hole. cut it out, and basted
it down.
81 wonder what it is" she said.
Tom did mean to get me an opera
glass, know; but that is not the shape
of the parcel. 1t doesn't seem like
book. 1t might be lace wound on a
cord-real lace
She looked at the package again. Il
do wonder what it is she said, and
hemmed the patch down. There
wasn't much to mend after all, she
said. Il thought the tear much lon
ger. He caught it on a nal in the Of
fice know. Now | do wonder what
is in that package
Eve pu. the coat over the chair and
took up the parcel. Tom wouldn't
mind she said. II will just take
peep. I'm sure that it is for me-"
Then she undid the ribbon, unfolded
the paper, and saw letters.
Dear Tom she said, che keeps
my old letters next his heart, and has
never told me"
But the writing was not hers; she
saw that at glance. Ills mothers
letters sho said ole loved his
mother so.
Then she began to tremble little,
for the letters did not begin with "My
dear son, nor with anything like it.
She cast her eyes over them. They were
love letters.
Tom has loved some other woman
before he met me, - she said, begin
ming to cry. "Oh, what shall l do?"
Then she cried out, ooh, foolish, fool
ish creature that am! OF course she
died and he only loves me now. 1t was
all over before we met | must not
mind but here she paused, gave a
scream, and then threw the letter from
her as though it had been a serpent
and had bitten her. 1t was dated in
the previous week. 1t was not four
days old. 'Oh! oh! OH" cried Eve.
"Oh. what shall do? Oh. where shall
l go?"
At every cry thought pierced, her
breast like an actual stab. Tom! my
Tom. What shall | do? Tom Tom,
He to be falSe-Tom! Oh, have gone
mad! No There they are! They are
really there--those letters! Why do
not die? Do people live through such
things as thcse?"
Then she Knelt down on the floor and
gathered up the letters and steadily
read them through. There was ten of
them. Such love letters. No other in
depreciation could be put upon them.
They were absurd love letters-such as
are always produced in court in cases
of breach of prom Sc. And they call
ed him "Popsy Wopsy," and Darling
Parting" and "Lovcy Dovey," and
"Own Sweetness, and Angel Of my
Soul" and they were all signed Your
own Nellie"
at is all true said poor Eva,
wrnging her hands. and it is worse
than anything l ever heard of. ]
trusted him so. l believed him so,
Nv Tom-mne ~
Then she wiped her eyes, gathered up
the letters, wrapped the silver paper
about them, tied the blue ribbon, and
put them back in the awful breast
pocket of that dreadful overcoat, and
hung it up in the hall again.
Tom shall never know said she.
'I'll not reproach him. ! will never
see him again; when he comes home
! will be dead. l will not live to bear
this.
Then she sat down to think over
the best means of suicide. She could
hang herself to the chandelier with n
i1f,.t oor.I. b,,t than sba -o,,lJ